Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Netherlands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Gian Franco Pienzio to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
The New Christs,
Country Teasers,
Barrington Levy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
ABBA,
Ice-T,
Iggy Pop,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hot Snakes,
Infiniti,
Public Enemy,
Todd Rundgren,
The Vogues,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Green,
Mandrill,
Pantytec,
Das Ding,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
Niagra,
Fear,
The Alarm Clocks,
Al Stewart,
Gang Starr,
Mission of Burma,
Aural Exciters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Sherman,
Surgeon,
Sarah Menescal,
Terry Callier,
Eli Mardock,
MDC,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
The Associates,
Gong,
Morten Harket,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Echospace,
Jerry's Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Cecil Taylor,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Wings,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
Ohio Players,
Kas Product,
Josef K,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.